


This isn't terrible...

by NoProtocol



Category: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 06:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoProtocol/pseuds/NoProtocol
Summary: MB takes a shower and ART wants to help its mutually administrative assistant.
Relationships: Asshole Research Transport & Murderbot (Murderbot Diaries)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	This isn't terrible...

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a break from Governor Controlled. If you want to imagine this happening at some point before then, feel free. It definitely happens post NE.

_You can watch media anywhere,_ ART told me when I got up from my bunk and headed to the small hygiene closet attached to my cabin.

Technically, the overbearing transport was right. I have, in fact, watched media in all kinds of less-than-appropriate situations. But I didn't want to see a gruesome episode of _Worldhoppers_ — the one ART could only manage in two-minute increments — in the shower.

I especially didn't want it hovering in my feed while I was in the restroom. No such luck.

Standard maintenance procedure calls for using cold water mixed with caustic cleaning chemicals to hose off any SecUnit that needs extra washing beyond what it can do with a moist wipe. Repair cubicles disinfect anything placed inside, but disinfected doesn't always equate with clean. So, the novelty of using human-grade showers to clean myself hadn't worn off, and it was one of the few human rituals I very much appreciated.

Technically, my body can handle freezing-cold water, but ART had been adamant about _not_ doing that. When I stepped into the stall, it adjusted both water temperature and pressure to my preferred settings. Wonderfully hot liquid sprayed out of the dispenser and cascaded down my shoulders and arms. My organic parts immediately leaned into the sensation, and 0.3 seconds later, so did my inorganics.

I definitely didn't miss being decontaminated by a cubicle, not when this was the alternative.

 _You should close your eyes and put your head all the way under the water,_ ART suggested after I'd stood still for a few minutes.

 _I know how showers work, asshole._ I just didn't want to move, yet. _But how would you know what works? You've never showered._

Actually, on second thought, maybe I didn't want to know the answer to that question. I made another note to add a delay to my response algorithm, already regretting whatever answer ART was about to give.

_My humans like it. But their eyes occasionally get irritated by hair cleansing chemicals._

Why was I not surprised that ART spied on its humans? Probably because it was a monster whose idea of minimum use of force was threatening a colony with armed pathfinders. Even now, I was still somewhat horrified it had chosen that route and thankful that Three had better sense.

Also, I could count the number of personal showers taken on my fingers and toes, so I was perhaps not entirely qualified to make any sweeping statements about the process. And most of those showers had happened since joining ART's crew.

I let scalding hot water run through my hair, eyes very much open because they're not completely organic and not susceptible to irritation. Even though I spent another ten minutes under the water and probably used up double a human's allotment, ART didn't complain or make any comments at all.

Instead, it queued up an episode of Sanctuary Moon.

When I turned off the spray and climbed out of the stall, there was a fluffy-looking towel in the recycler. I stood dripping on the metal floor (which ART had also warmed up even though my feet didn't care about temperature) and said, _I don't need one of those._

 _I know,_ the transport told me. _Use it anyway._

Arguing with ART is an exercise in futility, so I grabbed the warm towel and wrapped it around myself. The sensation of fuzzy towel against wet skin relaxed me for no discernible reason. SecUnits might not need showers, but I would be loath to give them if I ever had to.

In the meantime, one of ART's crew uniforms popped out of the recycler. This one had a non-standard design with additional pockets and extra layers of protection against damage. The transport told me before our first mission together that it had created a spec specifically for me — because SecUnits aren't human and have different hardware requirements. I'd had all kinds of complex emotions after that, and even now, seeing the uniform made me feel safe.

_Thanks, asshole._

_Want to watch an episode of Sanctuary Moon?_ ART asked like it hadn't already added it to the queue.

 _Sure. We can finish Worldhoppers again later._ I figured it was trying to avoid the difficult episode.

I got dressed and came back out into the cabin, all dry and warm and suspiciously comfortable. And then paused because there was a thick, heavy blanket on my bunk that hadn't been there before the shower. That was new and unexpected. ART's internal areas are climate controlled for optimal temperature, so blankets and sweaters are generally unnecessary.

 _What's this?_ I asked, even though I knew the answer.

_My crew likes to watch media under a blanket. Especially after a shower or a rest period._

_Your crew is weird, and I'm not human,_ I reminded the transport.

 _So don't use it,_ ART pointed out. _Want to recharge, too, since there's time?_

The transport had added a portable recharge and resupply unit under my bunk because that was easier than sending me to medical every time a low-battery alarm interrupted our media-watching time. I shrugged, plugged myself in, and then curled up under the blanket. It was extra heavy and so very comfortable, especially since I tend to have trouble moving around during a recharge cycle.

It's the best time to watch media. And we had plenty of it while we waited for ART's humans to get back from their shore leave for another trip into deep space. This was a teaching run, so there'd be teenage humans to deal with and share media with.

Amena was scheduled to join us, and I was already signed on as security.


End file.
